Hidden Truths
by sunday nights
Summary: She knows when he's making love to her, he doesn't see her. Chuck/Blair/Random Girl love triangle. Two-shot.
1. Lies

Hey, everyone. I've been able to write so much more over winter break, so I'm excited, yay (:

Disclaimer: Don't own them, except for mystery girl.

Author's Note: Okay, this just came out, I have no idea why, how, when, who. Anyways, it's a little confusing because it started off in two people's point of view, then went to one person. It's a girl, and she's constantly referring to another girl, so when you see italics, it is the girl not actually present. Regular font is the girl's point of view.

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_"Would you believe me if I said I was sorry  
The question wasn't mean to hurt,  
It was just my fear of losing you.  
And now you're filling all the space that surrounds you  
I'll soon_ _be tucked away underneath your bed  
Where you gave yourself to me.  
Where I gave myself to you._

_Maybe it's all for the best,  
But I just don't see any good in this, no.  
Maybe we'll find something better  
But the lovers that leave us  
Will always hold the place"_

You and I  
-Every Avenue

The room is dark. She's arching up to him, moaning his name, ripping buttons off his shirt as if her life depended on it. He's pressing his lips behind her ear, her neck, and slowly continuing downwards. She's screaming in ecstasy; she's letting him take out all his pain and anguish on her. He's pouring out his emotions onto her; he's feeling the movement of her body under his.

He wants to believe in his heart that he's doing the right thing. She wants to believe that he really and truly is kissing her, not imagining who she could be. He knows masking his anxiety and disgust with himself by using a girl isn't the right way, but he can't stop now. She can't keep pretending she doesn't know that when they're making love, he doesn't see her.

It's been at least two years now. They've been married for two years, yet, she doesn't know his favorite color, he doesn't know her favorite food. He doesn't care enough to know; she is scared that letting her emotions show will make her seem vulnerable, something he despises, and she knows.

They both lay panting on the band, eyes screwed shut, hearts racing faster than the speed of light. Their clothes lay in a tangled mess on the floor. Both disheveled, they sit up and look at eachother, and she's one hundred percent certain he doesn't know who it is, what they'e done, or where they are. It's always like that with him.

She sleeps around with other guys all the time, and he knows it. He doesn't sleep around because she's the only one close enough to _her. _She's the only one with cascading brunette curls and amber eyes that mimick _hers._ She's the only one that can verbally battle in a way that _almost_ rivals _hers. _Yet, she still knows she's second best. Second best is all she'll ever be in his eyes.

She knows her husband still talks to _her._ She knows her husband still dreams that _she_ is the one running her hand down his smooth, pale body. She knows he wishes _she_ is the one that's twisting his chocolate locks in her hand, making him scream in a way that she's never been able to make him.

"I'm going to shower," he says, routinely, just like he does right after every time they have sex.

"Okay, you want something to eat?" she says. They've played this game their whole life and they don't intend to stop now.

"Uh, no thanks," he repeats night after night.

"Alright, just let me know when you're done," she's become accustomed to this fake exchange. She knows when he's "showering", he's really going to his study to talk to _her_. She knows this, and he knows she knows, yet they play the perfect Upper East Side family that pretend eachother are the faithful loves of their lives.

Something strikes her today. What does _she_ have that she doesn't? She wants to know, she's craving to know, she has the strongest desire to find that girl and ask her exactly what it was that made him want her so much more. And she would change. She would change herself until he was satisfied. She knew, though, his satisfaction lay in the hands of _her._

She tiptoes to his study and feels guilty. She's breaking routine. Her role is supposedly to go down to the kitchen and make sandwiches for the both of him. But she's dying to know what he's saying, what she's saying.

"Hey, baby, how are you?" She hears him croon softly into the phone, in a hypnotic voice she's never heard him use before.

A distinctive voice wafts through the phone and out the thick, mahogony doors of his study and she immediately recognizes it. It's _her._

"I'm good; do anything fun today?" he asks, softly.

Again, the phone chatter slips through the cracks of the door and _her_ unmistakable voice is creating an ache in her heart like she's never felt before.

"What have I been doing? Well, Blair, I've been thinking about you all night," he answers.

Though she's tried to deny it, she knows in her heart that Chuck is telling the complete, utter truth.

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Wow. That was…intense. ChuckBlairRandomgirl love triangle.

Sorry for any confusion and leave a review and will sing Jingle Bells to you.


	2. Sins

Hey, everyone. Just added a tiny second chapter to this because I think it was a little too open-ended even for me. And by tiny, I mean TINY. Sorry to disappoint, I'm just not great at writing long stuff because it loses it's emotion.

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

Author's Note: This is written in Blair's point of view.

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"_When guilt fills your head  
Brush off rise up from the dead  
This is the moment that we  
Will come alive  
Brace yourself for love  
Sweet love, secret love._

_We'll write a song  
That turns out the lights  
When both boy and girl start suddenly shaking inside  
Don't waste your time  
Speed up your breathing  
Just close your eyes  
We'll hope it's not for nothing at all  
Nothing at all"_

Secret Valentine  
-We the Kings

She hangs up the phone quietly. It's far too late for anyone to be on the phone without an emergency being the reason. Her husband sleeps restlessly in the room next door and she can hear him tossing and turning up a storm. Bad dream, perhaps? She can relate. Her whole life has been a bad dream lately.

It isn't guilt that makes her uneasy. After all, her husband is notorious for sleeping around with women twice his age, half his age, and sometimes both at the same time. Who wouldn't climb into bed with Nathaniel Archibald for Christ's sake? Well, besides, her. Whenever she did have sex with him, she never enjoyed it because she had to be so careful. Who knew if a slip of tongue would reveal who was really on her mind?

Chuck Bass. His name could melt her. Especially if he was the one saying it, following it with a sexy smirk and nod. It's been weeks since they've actually seen each other in person. It's too dangerous and both know what the result will be. Every time they see each other, they enjoy a devious night of mind-blowing sex, followed by a resolution to finally work things out. But they both know, whatever they started would soon end, because he is Chuck and she is Blair.

Their relationship is a scandalous one, and that's half the reason it's still there. Without the lies, the sinning, the dirty feeling behind every conversation, their relationship is nothing. The unmistakable guilt and horror whenever they look each other in the eye is the foundation to their love. Is that even healthy? She doesn't care. The mystery that lies beyond the sex is something neither party wishes to endure. She knows they'd both rather live their lives separately than to risk being together, only to find it crash and burn.

She can't help feeling a pang in her heart when she remembers that he, too, is married, something the entire Upper East Side was shocked to hear. She knows it's a little hypocritical, but she wishes that she was the only one he made feel special. She's never met the woman because that is sure to cause drama to ensue. The jealously she feels towards this woman, although unreasonable, still stands strong.

She climbs into the giant bed next to Nate and suddenly feels a wave of appreciation. He's still her loyal (minus the few random women), doting husband. He's still the one that will stroke her knee fondly at banquet dinners. He's still the one that will gladly parade around, arm around her waist, to large galas and events. He's still the one that sleeps in their bed at night.

Even after all these years, with an affectionate husband and a passionate lover, Queen B is, in every sense, still on top.

* * *

Aw. That's sad. I wish they'd gotten together. Oh well.

Please review, loves. And thanks so much for reading!


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